Motivations and Brooding
by Aimsaru
Summary: Everything fit into his carefully constructed design, except Korra. Korra was unexpected, and while she had helped them reach the championship tournament, he was desperately trying to keep his distance from her.Because—because Korra threatened everything; she made him feel too much. She confused him. Based off of the "Noble Hobo" clip for episode 11


Fic: Motivations and Brooding

Rating: K+/T

Pairing: Makorra

Description: Mako broods. (best description ever, right?) Inspired by the "Noble Hobo" clip for episode 1.11

Random fact: Gommu has been one of my favorite characters since episode one. I am so excited to see this BAMF coming back into play in the finale. Former United Forces telegraph operator turned vagabond? Yes, please.

Notes: I'm not sure that I did this the justice that I wanted to but I hope that some of you will enjoy! Follows canon up until episode 10 and into the "Noble Hobo" clip of ep 11.

…

They sat around a large wooden table as Gommu handed them their food. The vagabond spoke about life down here, under the city streets, and Mako felt a small twinge of pride. For as much destruction as the Equalists and triads had created, this unity had also come as a result. People coming together to help each other and, as Gommu had said, "Live in harmony."

Things had changed. It was already a vastly different world than the one he and his brother had found themselves thrown into, forced to care for themselves at such a young age. Some things had changed for the better, many others for the worse.

Mako watched Asami as she took a tentative sip of Gommu's street gruel. Her skin immediately colored, becoming a mottled pea green before she indiscreetly spit the food back into the bowl and set it aside, untouched.

He frowned.

It was just another strike between them in an ever growing rift. Asami may be a talented fighter with a strong sense of honor, but she wasn't yet a _survivor_. Not really. She didn't understand what it meant to sleep on street corners or under tunnels, to burrow for warmth under a sheet of cardboard or a moldy strip of wood that smelled of water-rot. To make do with what little bit of food you could find from a dumpster behind a restaurant or a trashcan in the park. A dry crust of bread could make a fine meal after the ants had been brushed away, and when your stomach was as shrunken as his and Bolin's had been in those early days you could survive on a leaf of lettuce and the crumbs left at the bottom of box of crackers.

He remembered all of the belongings that she had packed when they moved in to Air Temple Island. It made him think of what their priorities should be during wartime.

It brought back memories of being on the run, having to leave things behind so that they wouldn't be caught. Wouldn't be dragged to the orphanage where they could be separated. He couldn't bare it if he and Bolin were separated. The streets were a far better fate than that.

He wondered if Asami saw the cracks as he did. Wondered if she understood that, even if Korra hadn't been a part of their lives, their differences would have caused them strife.

It was impossible to build a relationship on a crumbling foundation.

He knew that now. They had rushed too quickly into each other's arms, their mutual attraction driving them together. His girlfriend—_if that's what she still was_—had crashed into his life with a squeal of tires that left him reeling. She was everything that he thought he wanted, beautiful, kind, soft spoken, wealthy.

She fit into the life that he was carefully trying to create for himself and for Bolin. _"I think it would make more sense if I go for Asami"_ he had said all those weeks ago and it was true.

She fit into the picture of perfection that he had created so long ago.

Raise Bolin, Protect him, Survive. Make money. Live a life that was _more_ than surviving the night, the week, the month. Find a wife, have a family. Protect them.

He had only ever wanted a simple life, like his parents had known. Perhaps with a bit more money, some status would be nice as well…and they were making it, they had fought their way to the Pro-bending championships and everything was going well. Everything _fit _into his ideals, his need to control his destiny and not have it control him.

Everything fit into his carefully constructed design, _except Korra._

Korra was _unexpected_, and while she _had _helped them reach the championship tournament, he was desperately trying to keep his distance from her.Because_-_

Because Korra threatened _everything_; she made him feel _too much_. She confused him.

She threatened his control, causing him to lose it at every juncture.

Pulling, demanding, and tugging at him until he was ready to give in, to crawl into her open arms and admit that yes, he craved her chaos. He had let her know, _once_, about how conflicted she made him feel. He had wanted her to understand how lost at sea he was. How he was just an empty vessel, a simple ship, and she was the water of life, all around; Churning, crashing, and completely overwhelming.

And she had drowned him. She had somehow filled the space between his ribs and weighed down his lungs. Poured into his eyes and floated in his mind.

She had turned his life upside down all over again with lips, and tongue, and teeth. She questioned his reality with a kiss. Igniting his synapses and dismantling the matrices of defense that he had built so carefully against this very possibility.

Destiny finding its way in and ensnaring around his heart, squeezing until he couldn't breathe and then she had pulled away, skin flushed and all innocence. Like a white squall she left nothing but destruction in her wake. Flower petals falling to the wind.

"_I really like you and I think that we were meant to be together."_

He looked at her now, tearing his eyes from Asami and meeting pools of oceanic blue. His heart stuttered in his chest at the expression on her face, her delicate brows were drawn down over her eyes that were so wide, so vulnerable, and so pained.

"_No,"_ he wanted to say, _"You don't understand."_

But it was too late, her eyes were slanting away from his, her shoulders slumped. She looked tired, small, and alone.

He wanted to reach for her, wind his fingers between her own in a reassuring squeeze, and tell her everything. Tell her to wait, that he was figuring it all out and that as soon as the fighting was done…

He sighed. He was always hurting someone.

Things were easier when his life had been narrowed down to just _Mako and Bolin _and _Survival._

He had never had very many friends, in fact Korra and Asami may just be the first, and he was awful at it.

Korra shifted beside him and he could feel her mask slipping into place, he could see the effort she made to plaster a smile on her face, to look strong. He wondered when she had become so good at pretending.

…Pretending like he and Asami had. They had been lying to each other from the start. He had pretended to be the dashing Prince that she wanted, allowing her to dress him up and feeling the change that fancy clothes could inspire. He could almost believe that he belonged by her side, schmoozing with aristocrats when he was in full costume.

It had all been a lie, a deception that they had _both_ been guilty of. He remembered whispered words in the back of a Satomobile, _"I feel so safe with you_," and it was a joke. Asami was a force to reckoned with, not the damsel in need of protecting that she had originally led him to believe.

They had both wanted it to work so badly that they had been willing to withhold truths and misrepresent themselves.

It was something that calculated people did, and in_ that_ way, he and Asami were a lot alike.

Korra wasn't capable of such deception. She put it all out there, her personality was brash and compassionate and loud.

The Avatar had changed his life.

She was unable to only think of herself as he had for so long. Selfishness never occurred to her.

He knew the tales of Avatar Aang, how he had run from his duties and hidden away in a block of ice for one hundred years.

But Korra, Korra gladly took up the mantle of her responsibilities. She jumped at the chance to make things right, to ease suffering.

_Like her element, she was purifying and cleansing._

She made him a better person. Forced him to look at his life, at everything he had done and realize how self-serving every decision had been.

She was his redemption. He had done horrible things during his time working for the Triads, and he supposed that she knew. He figured that she could tell by how straight he could shoot a bolt of lightning into the back of an equalist, his face unflinching as their enemies fell.

But she never judged him for it. She never asked for more information than the handful of words that he was willing to give her.

He wasn't sure of his feelings now. He knew what he felt _about_ Korra but the _depth_ of his feelings _for_ her was a different thing entirely. He was struggling to hold tightly to the modicum of control that he still held over his ever expanding destiny. It was frightening and invigorating all at once, a humbling experience to realize how little command he had over anything at all.

Korra was never very good at getting in touch with her spiritual side and, he guessed it was just another thing that they had in common. _Because love is a spiritual experience, if nothing else. _

He knew very little for sure, only that Republic City was at war.

That he would protect Korra until his dying breath.

That the bloom of his relationship with Asami had wilted and only stubbornness breathed life into it now. That even now, the thought of being separated from Bolin scared him more than almost anything. That they couldn't afford to lose, that there was too much at stake.

That he had friends and more people to protect and care for than he ever thought possible.

That his heart had grown so much since a silly water tribe fan-girl had crashed one of their Pro-bending matches. That for some reason, she wanted to be with him, and that his very essence had begun to scream for it to be true.

That everything was changing and that _nothing, _nothing could ever go back to being simple.

Lies were unraveling and truths were coming to light. Skeletons in the closet were becoming flesh and taking up the space between them until it was all too much to ignore.

Bombs in the night and shrapnel burning, Destiny was calling the end to a chapter. The pages were still blank and white, but it was all quickening now. The quill hovering with dark ink, ready to strike and bleed until it was done.

He wished that he could feel more confident about their victory, about how it would all end.

But if he believed in anyone, it was _her_.

Blue eyes met amber once more and he gave her a reassuring smile, melting inside at the way her face softened as she held his gaze. Everything would be OK; they would make it Ok, _together._

And afterward, after it was all over, he and Asami would have their time to talk. Until then he would try to stay as single-minded as possible, focusing on winning back Republic City and protecting the people he cared for. It was best to have as little distraction as possible before a pro-bending match; he supposed that the same must be true of battle.

It was better to wait. For right now there was only one thing that Asami wanted to hear and, if Mako was unable to fully admit it to _himself_ then how could he say the words that would confirm her fears and end their relationship.

"_You have feelings for her don't you?"_

Things were crazy right now. It was a time for action and not for words. And when the time came, he would do the best he could at both.

For now he would be a man of action and, when the time came, and she was ready to hear him without pushing him away and he was ready to speak his truths; then he would be a man of words.


End file.
